style="font-size:15px;"> I nodded my head, staring into his blue eyes. I spoke to him, brushing my long, blond hair; twisting it up in a knot, similar to the knot that the Suebian men wore. The Suebians, a Germanic tribe, were so fierce, that they constantly battled with their neighboring tribes. I once saw a woman secure her hair in this fashion, and I admired the style. So, I always wore my hair this way, as well.
“Do you need some help?” Gerulf asked, as he swallowed the last morsel. “I use to arrange my younger sister’s hair. I swear—I know how to style a woman’s hair.”
“I’m certain that you do. If you wouldn’t mind helping,” I said, “that would be lovely, thanks.” Gerulf swiftly brushed my strands away from my face, securely twisted and knotted my lengthy shaft of hair—one half around the other. Upon completion of the knot, he smiled admiringly at me.
“There! All finished,” Gerulf said.
“I didn’t realize a warrior could arrange hair,” I said.
“I am capable of fixing hair and handling a sword.”
“I suppose. But, you did not outmaneuver your combatant’s sword, as it scathed your neck,” I said, laughing.
“You are correct—but, I was busy fighting another warrior at that moment.” Gerulf’s smile was as warm as his eyes were cool blue.
“Then, why did you not hold one weapon in each hand, in anticipation of two men attacking you at the same time?” I posed.
“Is there no winning with you, Ermentrude?” he wondered, with good humor.
“I think not. For I am accustomed to winning any challenge. I can say, your talent with hair has truly won me over, Gerulf.” I smiled at him.
“Perhaps you will allow me to give you a gift, for tending to my wounds.” He reached into his satchel and pulled out a lovely, polished bronze mirror. “This was my mother’s mirror when she was alive, and now, I wish to give it to a lovely and kind young woman I have just met. I don’t often give away gifts that belonged to my mother, but I’m sure you have more use for it than me.” Gerulf watched the expression on my face change from wonderment to admiration.
“I wouldn’t normally accept such a prized gift from a stranger. I hope you expect nothing in return, for I have nothing,” I added, “Thanks, Gerulf.”
“Ah! But, I do. I will expect you to dine with me at every meal, so that I may acquaint myself with your charming beauty and mind. Afterward, you must soothe my jarred bones with stories of your childhood, of your kin, perhaps—did you say you have a horse of your own? Please tell me its name—Wilhelmina? Kasimira? Oh, I have it—Raimunde?” he mused.
“Brunhilda! My horse is my protector. She protects me from harm. May Brunhilda come with me to dine with you?” I asked with a serious expression.
“Your horse? Why not? Maybe she will protect you from my advances.”
“I’m sure Brunhilda will interfere with whatever you have planned, especially if you offer her a piece of apple.” I warned him with flirting eyes.
“I might give her a bushel of apples, if she slowly wanders away from us . . .toward the other horses,” he gestured with his hand. His eyes were lit with merriment. I loved those eyes.
“You are an amusing man. You make me laugh. How could I resist any meal with you,” I said. “Until the hour of midday, then. Be careful when you ride. Don’t fall off your horse!” I quipped, as I stood and returned to Saskia and our horses.
It was a slow journey through the mountains, but one I will always remember. The day was beautiful. The air was warm and filled with the buzzing of insects. I turned toward Saskia and said,
“I met someone with the most spectacular blue eyes.”
She glanced at me and asked, “And what about his intentions toward you, Ermentrude?”
“His intentions are to dine with me and make me laugh.”
“Be careful with your heart, my dear sister,” she warned, “Some men steal your heart, and once they have it, they fling it away.”
“I know. I will heed your words, Saskia. Your words are in my heart, and they will protect me from any man’s ill intentions,” I spoke with confidence.
Saskia shifted her weight on her horse and said, “Pay attention to your words, Ermentrude. Do not betray your intentions by speaking too soon of love. You know your heart and your love of adventure. Never smother the flame you have for freedom with the dark coals of heated passion for a man.” She smiled at me, knowing me so well. Saskia was wise, indeed.
“My heart, now, only sings, Saskia. It doesn’t burn from the coals of love,” I rebutted. “Gerulf has the most humorous sense, and he recognizes me for a beautiful and bright woman, who is kind and gentle.” I continued, “We are just becoming acquainted with each other. If I see he feels nothing more than respect as a friend, I will curb my heart.” I said with dignity.
“I am encouraged by your good sense in these matters, Ermentrude. I really do want you to fall in love, and someday, wed someone as unique as yourself. I will always guard your back, for I am your only true and dear friend,” Saskia spoke.
“I will always be glad for your guidance and your watchful eye, Saskia.”
We continued on, through the mountains, searching for little animals to capture and eat for a midday meal. Our stomachs growled. Why is it that bread does not keep a stomach satisfied? One must always hunt for meat, when no cheese is available. We would have to hunt for our food soon, or else our stomachs would grind themselves with pain, making it impossible to think.
Saskia spotted a fat, gray, furry head popping in and out of it’s hole. So, with great stealth, she crept around behind it’s home, about ten feet away, and waited behind a shrub, for it to reappear. With her mother’s ax raised above her shoulder, she saw the creature leave its hole, and flung the ax swiftly at the poor mite.
I had never witnessed such good ax-throwing before, and I was determined to learn how to perform such a feat. After Saskia pulled the animal away from its hole, and she retrieved the ax, I begged her to show me how to throw the ax with greater control after the midday meal. She agreed, for she loved to use weapons with great showmanship. I was eager to be her student. Yet, in my excitement, I had forgotten that Gerulf and I were to have our next meal together.
After our delicious meal, we walked over to a brace of trees with a wall of large boulders behind it. Saskia handed me her ax, showing me how to aim it at the target. The ax felt heavy and wobbled in my hand. I threw it several times and missed the target, so I continued to practice, determined to become as skilled as Saskia.
“You are throwing straighter now,” Saskia encouraged me, “so, throw with more force!”
She again demonstrated how to position my arm and hand to torque the ax, so it would fly in a defined path toward the center of the target, which was an old shield tied to a tree trunk. I attempted to throw the ax with increased force; I finally succeeded and whooped out loud, “WOO-HOOOO!”
Somewhere above the target, I heard a deep voice shouting, “WHOO-HOOOO!” and thought it was an echo of my own excitement. I realized that someone was standing
